


Bad Intentions

by theLilyBird



Series: Intentions [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 21:30:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6301156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLilyBird/pseuds/theLilyBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard and Garrus have a Friends with Benefits relationship. Could it be more? (Mostly Porn with minimal plot)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forged in Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to practice my smut. And so this was born. Sorry not Sorry.

It was late. Garrus wasn’t entirely sure how late, but he didn’t really care. All he cared about was getting a little relief from the ache between his legs. He had already shed his armor and was currently working on his undersuit. 

 

Some stupid part of him thought it would be a good idea to take care of this in the driver's seat of the Mako. It hadn’t yet backfired and he took it as a good sign he could continue. 

 

He hooked a talon into the zipper of his undersuit and leaned back, closing his eyes and imagining a beautiful turian woman on top of him. She was pale with elaborate clan markings and bright green eyes.

 

In his mind she peeled his undersuit off of him, scraping her talons across his chest as she went. Then she took him in hand and he hissed. She moved slowly, torturously slow, and laughed in his ear when he begged for more.

 

Taking pity on him she sped up her ministrations, dragging her hand up and down faster as he rolled his hips against her.

 

Suddenly the passenger side door swung open and his fantasy shattered.

 

“Garrus what have I told you about--oh... _ oh _ ,” Commander Shepard said, not looking away from him. Her eyes seemed caught on his crotch. “Uh, sorry. I--um...yeah.” She trailed off.

 

Garrus chuckled and readjusted himself so his cock rested against his abdomen. “You like what you see, Commander?” he asked, trying to cover his embarrassment with a little cockiness. 

 

Her attention snapped to his face. He couldn’t read her expression, not that he knew much about human expressions in the first place. She bit her lip. “I’d be lying if I said no,” she said, eyes falling back between his legs.

 

To test her honesty he gave himself a slow stroke and let out an over-exaggerated groan.

 

Instead of saying anything, she hopped into the passenger seat and slammed the door closed behind her.

 

“Commander?” he questioned, cocky facade suddenly dissolved.

 

She smiled at him, “By all means, don’t stop on my account.”

 

He warred with himself over what to do next. Rather than actually do anything he just stared at her dumbfounded.

 

Shepard sighs and catches her hands on the edges of her nightshirt. He’d been so self involved he hadn’t noticed her scant state of dress. She pulls it over her head and tosses it into the back of the Mako. “If it’ll make you feel a little better,” she says, reaching behind herself to unclasp the odd undergarment wrapped around her chest. It joins her nightshirt in the back.

 

With one sideways glance in his direction she leans back and guides her hands up her body until they reach those fleshy mounds-- _ breasts _ , he corrects himself. She rolls a nipple between her fingers and sighs, leaning back into the seat, Garrus all but forgotten. With her other hand she massages the opposite breast, arching slightly into her own touch.

 

Then a thought occurs to him and he can’t help himself as he leans over, gently moving her hand away and replacing her fingers with his tongue. He flicks once, twice, a third time and she whimpers at him. “Garrus,” she says softly.

 

Ignoring her he repeats the motion on the opposite breast while echoing her earlier massaging on the other. She arcs toward him, his name on her lips again. He decides he can get used to this.

 

“Garrus, please, look at me,” she says, a little breathless.

 

Reluctantly he moves back to his place in the driver’s seat and sets his eyes on her. She’s a lovely shade of pink, he notes as she tucks an escaped strand of red hair behind her ear.

 

“If we’re going to do this, I need you to know it’s just two people blowing off steam. It’s not and will never be more. If you want that,” she says, trailing off.

 

It hadn’t occurred to him that he might want something  _ more.  _ It had barely occurred to him that he wanted  _ this.  _ He’s not sure what makes him do it, what makes him pick her up with ease and sit her in his lap. She half squeaks, half giggles.

 

“I want that,” he says, his voice gravely as he grinds up against her. He laughs softly at how wet she is for him, her underwear soaked through. “Do you mind?” he asks, eyeing the fabric.

 

She just nods.

 

In one fluid motion he shreds the fabric with his talons, splitting it on both sides. It earns him a disapproving look and a squeal.

 

“I really liked those,” she says, staring him down.

 

He ignores her momentarily, his attention caught between her thighs. The hair there is dampened and almost as red as the hair that grows from her head. “I really don’t care,” he says, turning his attention back to her. Her bright green eyes catch him and he’s vaguely reminded of the turian woman he’d imagined earlier. 

 

_ This is so much better,  _ he thinks as he runs his hands up her body, occasionally scraping his talons against her fragile flesh. She moans and rolls against him, her wet heat sliding against his cock. A long groan escapes him and he buries his head in her shoulder.

 

Garrus allows himself a moment to compose himself before he sits back to look at her. “Touch yourself,” he says, resting his hands on her hips.

 

Shepard eyes him for just a moment before complying, slipping one hand between her legs and through the damp curls. He watches with rapt attention as she rubs gentle circles around a nub just above her entrance. He wracks his brain for the name, because he knows what it is-- _ he knows.  _ Each whimper and moan that slips from her lips confirms it. 

 

He makes a mental note to research human female anatomy later.

 

Gently he grasps her wrist to stop her ministrations. Her eyes flicker open at him, ready to protest, but she stops and waits instead. He rewards her by shifting her just slightly, positioning himself to enter her.

 

Rather than wait for the slow torture he intends, she slams down on him and they moan in unison. “Evil,” he mutters under his breath. She’s hot and wet, he has to give himself a minute to focus or he knows he’s not going to last. She makes no move and he thinks she’s got the same thoughts in her head.

 

Gripping her hips as tight as he dares he nods and she slides off of him. They start slow, setting an almost torturous pace.

 

Every time his cock expands to fill her she seems to stretch just a little more to accommodate him. It’s driving him mad, he didn’t know humans could do that. Is she doing it on purpose?

 

“Garrus,” she says suddenly, eyes blown wide. “What’s happening?”

 

He tries not to laugh and fails as a strangled chuckle escapes him.  _ No, not on purpose. _ “If you mean what I think you mean,” he begins, trying to level his tone. “It’s a turian thing. Expanding as needed to fit as needed.” He growls as it begins again, stretching and expanding. “I just can’t quite  _ fill _ you,” he grounds out.

 

It’s her turn to laugh, or try anyway as she lets out breathless gasps instead. “Human thing,” is all she says.

 

He buries his head in her neck, picking up his pace and nipping her slightly on every upthrust. His bicep tingles where her hand grips him. Rapidly the tingling shifts into a vibrant almost burning sensation that feels  _ so fucking good  _ and he wraps one arm around her waist to pull her closer.

 

She drags her nails down his arm and the almost burning spreads, disappearing when her touch leaves him. She starts again and he thrusts up harder, making her scream. 

 

“Stop it,” he growls in her ear, trying to return to his previous pace, but everywhere she touches him he  _ burns.  _ It’s more pleasure than he’s felt in his life and it takes every shred of self-control he has not finish too soon. “Please,” he begs. 

 

Suddenly it stops. “Sorry,” she says, leaning away from him.

 

He looks up to see the familiar fading violet glow he knows as her biotics and it dawns on him.  _ She used her biotics on me.  _ He forces the thought away, filing it for later.

 

Instead of speaking he slips his hand between them and echoes her earlier motions around her nub. She cries out, digging her dull little nails into his shoulders.

 

“Please, Garrus,” she says, rolling her hips in time with his ministrations. “ _ Please. _ ”

 

He thrusts harder, faster and she dissolves into a mess of whimpers and moans. She’s begging him for nothing specific, but he knows what she wants.

 

She comes with a scream, suddenly still against him while her inner walls pull his own orgasm out of him. He drifts out of reality for a moment, the pleasure too much for him.

 

When he comes to the surface he finds Shepard has climbed back into the passenger seat and he misses her heat. He throws his head back over the top of the seat and closes his eyes, trying to focus.

 

“There you are,” she says, forcing him to draw his attention back to her. She’s flushed and glistening with a slight sheen of sweat. “Thought I’d lost you for a bit there.”

 

He laughs and sits back up. “You going to explain the biotics?” he asks, flicking her a turian smile he half knows she won’t understand.

 

She shies away from him and the flush spreading across her cheeks isn’t from the sex. “Sorry,” she says again. “It happens sometimes, if I’m not careful. If I don’t keep control, it controls me.” She looks back at him and forces a smile. “Sorry,” she repeats.

 

“It’s fine, it felt good--amazing if I’m being honest. I just thought it wouldn’t be fair to come without you,” he says, flicking another smile at her. 

 

Shepard bites her lip, “That thing you did with your cock. Explain it to me.”

 

A low groan escapes him at the thought of her stretching over and over so he could never quite fill her. “Turian women are all different sizes. To compensate we get bigger until we can't anymore. Doesn't seem to work the same with humans. Sorry if it freaked you out,” he tells her, trying to convey his emotions the best he can across the species barrier.

 

“It's fine,” she says and another flush spreads across her cheeks. “It felt amazing--if I'm being honest.” 

 

He laughs at her use of his earlier words.

 

They sit in silence for a while and Garrus inhales the scent of her and him-- _ them _ . 

 

“Garrus, do you think you'd want to do this again sometime?” she asks a little sheepishly.

 

Part of him is amazed this flustered woman is the same one who hopped into the Mako with him and started touching herself. The other part is in awe she wants  _ him _ to touch her again. “Yeah, why wouldn't I?” 

 

She shrugs and crawls into the backseat to retrieve her clothes. He smacks her ass and she giggles.

 

After she redresses she pauses to look at him for only a moment before opening the door and hopping out of the Mako. “Goodnight, Garrus. I'll see you tomorrow,” she says as she closes the door behind her.

 

He watches her walk back to the elevator and disappear into it. He gets himself off once more to the image of her before redressing and heading back to his bunk.


	2. A Long List of Shouldn'ts

Garrus had noticed the looks Shepard got from both Dr. T’Soni and Lieutenant Alenko and he found he really didn’t care. His arrangement with Shepard was one that excluded emotional attachments. They took care of their business and went on their way.

 

Except tonight. Tonight they'd rendezvoused in her quarters for the first time, and rather than go their separate ways immediately after, Garrus lingered. They played a game of what Shepard called twenty questions, though they went well past twenty.

 

Slowly they got to know each other better, beyond what they liked in bed.

 

Shepard was a good, kind, and loving person. She was probably physically incapable of being honestly mean and even saw some glimmer of good left in Saren. She never really had a romantic relationship which she said suited her just fine, though Garrus sensed that was a half truth, but he didn't press.

 

Occasionally his mind wandered as he watched her six, she had an incredible six.

 

This was not one of those times. This time he pulled Shepard into cover, Ashley’s safety an afterthought. Instead of doing the smart thing he went and did the stupid thing, breaking cover to line up a good shot.

 

Shepard calls out to him over the gunfire, hissing to get his ass back here  _ right now or so help me _ . Rather than listen he goes full stupid and gets himself into close quarters with a krogan.

 

With a little help from Ashley and a bit of getting his ass kicked by a krogan--that would hurt later--he cleared the battlefield. He saunters over to Shepard who still sat in cover. Where he expects--well he isn't sure what he expects, but it isn't this--he instead finds raw fury burning in her bright green eyes.

 

“Shepard?” he questions.

 

In answer she rises, shoving past him and being sure to clink her armor against his as she passes. The shuttle ride back is spent in total silence.

 

When they get to the ship she shoves past him again, this time with more force. He watches her start to storm away, shedding her armor as she goes. That's where he draws the line, deciding enough is enough.

 

“You're not going to say anything? You're just going to strip for me and run away? I didn't take you for a tease, Commander,” he shouts after her. He knows it's the wrong thing to say, knows she's going to make him regret it later. 

 

In one fluid motion she spins on her heel and storms back to him with her entire right arm enveloped in that soft violet glow. “I am not in the fucking mood, Vakarian! I swear to God I will throw you out the goddamn airlock so don't fucking test me!” she shrieks. Her chest is heaving and her eyes are on him like she's trying to set him on fire.

 

He's never heard her swear before, even in bed her mouth was clean. It hushes him.

 

After a moment’s pause she speaks again. “That's what I fucking thought,” she says, turning on her heel as the violet glow dissipates.

 

“You're still a tease,” he says, more to himself than to her.

 

But she hears and spins back around with a violet enveloped fist that crashes against his mandible. He stumbles back, both from the force and being caught off guard.

 

“What do you want from me, Vakarian?” she hollers. “Do you want me to treat you like they would on a turian ship? Hmm? What would your commanding officer do to punish you? String you up and flog you? Maybe something a little more demeaning; like tease you until you're writhing and begging for release. Is that what you want?”

 

He tests his luck, “Oh you know I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

 

Her eyes go wide and suddenly  _ he’s  _ the one engulfed in violet glow, frozen in stasis. “I'm going to leave you here, like this and go back to my quarters. You can think about what you've done and get back to me when you've gotten your shit together,” she says turning away from him and walking--no,  _ sauntering _ back to the elevator. 

 

_ Tease. _

 

It's a while before he can move again and even longer before he gathers the courage to talk to her. When did she start making him so nervous?

 

Most of the crew has shuffled off to bed by now so he's left alone to stand outside Shepard’s door like the petrified child he is. Despite himself, he knocks. Once, twice, three times.

 

It's quiet for a while when suddenly the door opens and Commander Shepard stands in the doorway, scantily clad in the nightshirt she wore that first night in the Mako. “Come in,” she says hazily, all signs of anger seemingly disappeared. 

 

He follows her back into her cabin, waiting patiently for it all to come crashing down around him.

 

She stops by the foot of her bed, crossing her arms as she turns to face him. She doesn't speak, just waits for him to make the first move.

 

The first thought that comes to mind is to strip her bare and take her, but part of him knows better and pushes the thought away. “I'm sorry,” he says, sighing in defeat.

 

Shepard ignores him, moving forward and going for the pressure seals on his armor.

 

“Shepard?” he questions.

 

She just hums in response, letting each piece of armor crash to the floor until he's just in his undersuit. She helps him out of that as well and he's laid bare for her. Guiding him, she pushes him backward onto the bed before falling to her knees between his legs.

 

He tries to protest, but her mouth is already licking a delicious line up his slit and he can feel his plates spread for her. Then he's in her hand and he forces himself up onto his forearms to watch her work. She's a sight to behold, tongue drawing a line up the side of his cock as she stares into his eyes.

 

“Spirits, Shepard, turian women don't do that,” he says, his voice ragged.

 

She lets out a breathy laugh against him, making him groan. “They don't?” she says, stroking him slowly.

 

“No, they don't,” he says, a little breathless.

 

“What a shame,” she says. She licks him again, base to tip, before wrapping her mouth around him. He can't help bucking up into her mouth.  _ So good. _

 

She laughs around him and he practically whimpers. It only spurs her on and she starts humming a song he's never heard as she bobs up and down.

 

“Spirits, Shepard,” he says, his words fragmented. “We shouldn't be doing this, it's dangerous.”

 

She looks up at him, taking him out of her mouth for just a moment. “I'll be fine,” is all she says before setting back to her work.

 

Too far gone to stop, he reaches out to touch her but thinks better of it and rests his hand at his side instead.

 

She catches his hesitant motion; with her free hand she grabs his and guides him to her hair, letting him tangle his talons in it. He scrapes her scalp as gently as he can and she moans around him, dragging more helpless noises from him.

 

“Sh--Shepard. St--stop,” he stutters. He's close and this is the dangerous part. The part that could make her deathly ill.

 

She pulls off him, smiling and he thanks the spirits, throwing his head back. How would he have explained that to Chakwas? 

 

Without warning he feels that almost burning sensation creeping up his leg and suddenly he's on fire with pleasure. Her mouth returns to his cock and he tries--tries so hard--not to come, but he's burning and she's water; he can't stop himself. 

 

He comes with a roar, unable to think or speak or move as his orgasm rips him apart.

 

When he returns to the world she's still holding him and stroking lazily as she rests her head on his thigh and smiles at him. “Hey you,” she says.

 

“Let go,” he begs hoarsely, unable to tear his eyes away from her.

 

She complies and a sigh of relief escapes him. Then it occurs to him--“Did you do what I think you did?” he asks.

 

She sticks her tongue out at him and he groans, throwing his head back. “You shouldn't have done that.”

 

He’s dead for sure. 

 

“You shouldn't have disobeyed me. You shouldn't have said what you said. And you  _ definitely _ should not have challenged my authority,” she says and there's no venom in her firm words.

 

He laughs breathlessly, “Are you saying this was punishment?” 

 

She shrugs, “Did it feel like punishment?”

 

_ Yes. No. Of course, it was torture. _

 

“Doesn't really motivate me to be good, does it?” 

 

“Do that again, Vakarian and I won't allow you the privacy of my quarters next time,” she says wickedly, rising to her feet. “You can stay here for a while. Get your shit together. But you can't stay the night.”

 

He lays still for a good hour before getting dressed and leaving. The wicked woman would be the end of him.


	3. The Goodbye

Shepard doesn’t call for him the night before Ilos like he thinks she will, but that doesn’t bother him. What _ does _ bother him is the sight of Liara leaving the Commander’s quarters with her in the morning. He tries to choke the thought in his mind, kill it so it never bothers him again and it dies.

 

They win, like he thought they would. He’d almost lost her in the process-- _ they  _ he chides himself.  _ They  _ almost lost her.

 

She calls for him two nights later, a quick note sent to his omni-tool-- _ Come here. _ He happily follows her command, appearing at her door not much later.

 

It opens and she’s on him, pulling him against her and pressing her lips to his mouth plates. The door whooshes closed behind him and he’s guided toward the bed. He gives her his best approximation of a kiss and then she pulls away, smiling.

 

Together they work him out of his armor, unceremoniously throwing the pieces aside. He pulls the nightshirt off her and unclasps her bra--she’s taught him so much. They both eye the last thing separating them, her underwear. She nods at him and he splits them on either side as he did that first night.

 

They fall backward onto the mattress and she grinds down on him, rubbing her slickness against his spreading plates. She repeats the motion until he’s fully unsheathed.

 

“Garrus,” she says, her voice thready and desperate. “ _ Please. _ ”

 

It occurs to him they’ve never gone at it like this before, desperate and needy, like it’s the last moments they’ll share with each other.

 

He nods and slides his thumb through her wetness before settling back on her clit--he knows the word now, she’s taught him so well. He makes slow circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves as she positions herself over him. 

 

She slams down on him and they both moan. Her pace is frantic and he tries to match it, but gives up in favor of giving his attention to her clit. She smiles down at him, moaning his name every time she hilts him.

 

That familiar violet glow spreads across her flesh, swallowing her up in it’s soft light. Her eyes are closed and her head is thrown back--she doesn’t know. 

 

He forces himself to focus,  _ not yet.  _ Again he tries to match her pace, but instead finds his own. He can tell she’s close, he knows her so well now, knows her body, knows her sounds. “Come for me, Shepard,” he says.

 

She does, arching toward him as unintelligible words slip past her lips. The violet glow spreads until it swallows them both and they rise off the bed. Garrus is vaguely aware of something falling over as she drags his own orgasm from him, growling as he grips her hips tighter than he should.

 

When they come back to the world, it’s together, with her resting against his chest. He opens his eyes to discover they’re still hovering, no more than a foot off the bed. The violet glow is brighter and it makes them shimmer in the dim light of the room. “Open your eyes,” he urges.

 

She raises her head to look at him, opening her eyes. The amazement that shines in her eyes makes his heart swell. “It’s beautiful,” she says.

 

“You’re beautiful,” he says and as soon as the words leave him he wishes he could take them back.

 

Her attention snaps to him and they suddenly collapse back onto the bed. Garrus groans in discomfort, pulling her off him. She whimpers, but he ignores her, throwing his arm over his eyes, hoping she chooses to ignore his previous slip of the tongue.

 

He feels the bed shift and he knows she’s gotten up.

 

“Garrus,” she says, her voice grave. He doesn’t move. “Garrus,” she repeats. “Look at me.”

 

When he does she shies away from his gaze. She’s picking up a fallen chair and spending far longer than necessary readjusting it. “I need you to leave,” she says, not turning her attention to him.

 

His heart sinks and he feels a little sick. When did she start having this effect on him? 

 

“Before you freak out,” she begins.

 

“I’m not freaking out,” he says hastily. It’s a lie and he knows it, he  _ is  _ freaking out.

 

She sighs, “Before you freak out, I want you to know it’s not because you did anything wrong. It’s quite the opposite, actually.”--she smiles to herself and it sooths him a bit--“I want you to go for spectre training. I put in my recommendation, but they’re a little hesitant to take me at my word. But I get the feeling you don’t mind working for it.” She gives him a sly smile, her attention finally on him.

 

“Shepard,” he says. “I don’t know what to say.” He really doesn’t. Part of him just wants to stay in this room forever and the other part aches to make her proud.

 

“Say yes.” Her eyes light up and he just wants to look at her like this forever.

 

Then it dawns on him, hits him so hard he briefly thinks the room is spinning. “ _ This is goodbye _ ,” he says. It really was their last time together.

 

Shepard crosses the room and holds his face in her hands, tilting his head up to look at her. “Not forever. Just for now,” she says. Then she bites her lip and looks away. “I know what I said when we started this. Just two people blowing off steam, but it’s different now. You’re my best friend and I want the best for you. It won’t be long, a year at most.”

 

He doesn’t trust his voice so instead he pulls her down for a kiss, gripping her ass tightly in the other hand. He growls against her lips and she lets out a breathless laugh. “I’ll miss this,” he manages, giving her ass a smack.

 

She giggles and buries his face in her chest. “Yeah, me too.”


	4. A Goodbye More Permanent

Garrus had just finished wrecking his apartment. Foam from the couch lay across the floor along with shattered glass from the room divider. The kitchen hadn’t fared any better and the counter was cracked beyond repair. It looked like a disaster. He  _ feels  _ like a disaster.

 

Rather than face his problems the way he should, he throws himself into bed and strips down to nothing. He wants to be with her, just one more time. He wants to be buried deep inside her, the scent of her making his head spin as she clenches around him and milks him for all he’s worth. Which isn’t much anymore, now that he’s without her.

 

He takes himself in hand and tries to pretend it’s hers, but he can’t. He’s shy a couple fingers not to mention the texture is all wrong. So instead of pretending he’s with her, he just sifts through his favorite memories and lets them guide him down a path to ecstasy.

 

His orgasm is almost painful and the heady afterglow doesn’t last long before he’s plunged back into reality. He aches for her. 

 

He forces himself to get his shit together, to remain calm for just a moment. Then he makes himself face the reason he’s so upset. Screw that best friend bullshit. He loved her.  _ Spirits did he love her.  _

 

But even if she was alive, he wouldn’t get anything more from her. She made it clear she wasn’t interested in him that way by choosing Liara. The thought of the asari brings on a whole new wave of grief and rage.

 

He goes to the funeral, but avoids his friends, avoids her mother and father as well. He doesn’t talk to anyone, just sits quietly in a corner downing drink after drink.

 

“Shepard wouldn’t want you acting this way, Garrus,” Liara says, seemingly appearing out of thin air.

 

“Shepard’s not here,” he growls.

 

The asari sighs and pulls up a chair beside him. “She may not be, but I am,” she says. “I’m not Shepard--”

 

“I know you’re not,” he says with a bitter laugh. When did he get to be so cruel?

 

“I’m not Shepard and I know that,” she continues, choosing to ignore him. “But if you need me for something, I’m here.” She pats his leg and smiles.

 

“I don’t need anything, Liara,” he says. “ _ Especially from you. _ ”

 

His words seem to take her aback and she abandons him to his drink.  _ Good, _ he thinks.

 

Tali finds him some time later, sipping a drink of her own. “You don't have to be so cruel, Garrus. Liara did nothing wrong,” she tells him. “Is that how you want to honor the her memory? By being a complete ass?”

 

_ No,  _ he thinks, but he doesn't speak. He's had too much to drink and he needs to go home now.

 

He makes a lame excuse and Tali just waves him off, obviously not wanting to deal with his particular brand of bullshit.

 

Garrus descends into a type of hell that’s tailor made for him. Everywhere he turns, his mind conjures images of her. Sometimes he swears he can even hear her voice and the only thing that seems to drown her out is sex. 

 

He’s lost track of how many women he’s let into his bed, but he’s careful. So careful. He picks just the right one every time. They each remind him of her in different ways and if he doesn’t think too hard on it he can imagine it’s really her.

 

He’s losing his mind, hitting an alcoholic rock bottom one evening with red headed twins. Having them curled up around him awakens something in him.

 

It’s a need to make  _ her  _ proud.

 

Somehow this need drives him to Omega, drives him to echo his beloved Commander in the best way he knows how. He still drinks, but on special occasions. After especially successful missions or to celebrate a birthday or similar occasion.

 

A sense of belonging and normalcy overtakes him with his team. Shepard would be proud, he thinks so at least. He can still see her at the fringes of his vision sometimes, hear her melodious voice humming in the back of his mind, but it doesn’t bother him anymore. He’s just a little bit crazy and he doesn’t care.

 

_ He’s happy again. _

 

And then he’s not. The metaphorical rug is again ripped out from under him, leaving him raw and aching. He feels like a failure, knows he is. Shepard would’ve done better. She did do better. 

 

He’s spiraling out of control and the only thought, only motivation he has left is to splatter Sidonis’ brains against a wall. Or a window, he’s not picky.

 

His real descent starts when he sees her cross the bridge, he thinks. He’s imagining her in full form. How long before all he can hear is her voice in his ear?

 

How long until loss has consumed him? How long until  _ she’s  _ consumed him?


	5. A Reunion to Remember

He inhales sharply.  _ She’s real  _ is all he can think. He’s choking on his own blood and he doesn’t like how she’s looking at him right now, but  _ she’s real. _ He hadn’t been sure until this moment.

 

She places her hand on his mandible and a choked sob escapes her, “You’ll be okay, Garrus. I promise.”

 

The pain drags him back under and he blacks out.

 

When he wakes again it’s in the shuttle with Shepard sobbing on the shoulder of some human male. She seems to catch onto his alertness and pulls away. 

 

“Hey,” she says, her voice jagged.

 

He tries to say something, wants to say something. All he can manage is, “Shepard.” Then he’s out again.

 

The surgery went well, Dr. Chakwas assures him. He needs to take it easy, though he has no such intentions. The A.I.--EDI--guides him through the ship to find Shepard. 

 

She’s all too happy to see him, make jokes with him-- _ Spirits laughing hurts.  _ But he endures the pain for her, because he would kill a thousand times over just to see her smile. He promises they can talk again later and leaves for the main battery.

 

He’s not even settled in yet when EDI chimes at him. “The Commander would like to speak with you in her private quarters,” she says.

 

“We were just talking,” he says more to himself.

 

The A.I. takes a pause. “She says it is urgent.”

 

“Tell her she can wait,” he says, exasperated.

 

Another pause. “She says  _ that’s an order, Vakarian. _ ” The sudden sound of her voice makes him shiver.

 

The whole elevator ride is spent going over possible scenarios. What could she possibly want from him that’s so urgent she needs to pull rank?

 

The doors open into a small hallway and he makes it to the door before the nerves start to get to him. Suddenly he’s overwhelmingly aware of his feelings for her, they strangle his better judgement and he presses the keypad. The doors open and he steps inside.

 

Shepard stands just inside, leaning over her desk. Quickly she reaches to the right and turns a photo frame onto it’s face before spinning around to look at him. “Hey you,” she says, leaning back against the desk and smiling at him.

 

“You said it was urgent,” he says. “I was just about to start calibrating the guns.” He gestures behind him lamely at the closing door.

 

When he turns back she’s fast approaching and suddenly her lips are pressed against his mouth plates and-- _ oh, spirits he missed this.  _ He relaxes into her, giving as good as he gets.

 

His mind tugs at memories of Liara at her funeral and he pulls away, taking a step away from her. “What about Liara?” he questions.

 

Shepard’s attention falls to the floor and she bites her lip in a gesture he knows means she’s thinking something over. She looks back up at him and smiles. “What she doesn’t know, can’t hurt her,” she says, moving back toward him.

 

He dodges her. “I don’t want you to regret this later,” he says and he means it.

 

“I won’t,” she says, still smiling. “Now are you going to have your wicked way with me or are you just going to stand there? It’s been more than two years, you know.”

 

“Oh, I’m well aware,” he says, driving her back until she hits the edge of the desk. He leans in close to her ear. “This is new,” he says gesturing with his eyes to the outfit similar to Chakwas’. “Do you mind?”

 

She shakes her head. He hooks his talon into the zipper, dragging it down until he can help her out of it. She kicks off her boots, leaving her in her leggings and bra. He wants her completely naked, but this will do for now.

 

He licks along her collarbone and up her neck to her jaw, she shivers as he moves back down. With one hand he massages a breast through her bra, while using the other to work the clasp. As soon as her breasts are free he works his mouth on them, flicking a nipple with his tongue while rolling the other between his fingers.

 

She gasps and arches into him. “Garrus, please, naked, now,” is all she can manage, coherent sentences beyond her already.

 

Rather than answer her he backs away, making her whimper. He chuckles as he goes for the pressure seals on his armor. It’s not long before he’s in his undersuit. She reaches for him, but he denies her. She’s still overdressed.

 

He hooks his talons into her leggings and pulls them down her legs, taking her underwear with them. He tosses the bunched fabric aside, finally able to enjoy  _ all  _ of her. She looks almost exactly how he remembers her, except the hair between her legs is gone and her body seems fuller. 

 

There’s one thing he wants to try...he kneels between her legs and instantly she closes them. He looks up at her, confused.

 

“No,” is all she says, her voice oddly calm.

 

Garrus knows better than to test her, as much as he wants to  _ taste  _ her. He rises and slides a hand between her legs, carefully grazing the sensitive nub with his thumb. She hops up on the desk and spreads her legs for him. It gives him a deliciously evil idea.

 

Slowly, so she can stop him if she wants, he pushes a taloned finger inside her. His talons aren’t very big or really all that long, but they’re sharp. She throws her head back and moans. Her death grip on his forearm is the only obvious indication of her fear so he slides his finger out and back in, slightly faster.

 

She’s hot and wet, he remembers how good it feels to be inside her and desperately wants to replace his finger with his cock.

 

He only tests his luck one more time before bringing his finger up to his mouth and licking the fluids off. She moans at the sight of him and he does the same at the taste of her. She’s sweet and he hates that he can’t have more.

 

Without warning she reaches out for him, unzipping his undersuit and trying to peel him out of it. He lets her. She freezes at the sight of him and he suddenly feels self conscious.

 

He looks down at himself, the damage to his upper right side is pretty extensive, the flesh is still raw and there’s a faint blue glow of cybernetics just beneath the surface. Slowly he realizes that’s not where she’s looking. Her eyes are between his legs.

 

“What?” he questions. “It’s nothing you've never seen before.” When she doesn’t respond he double checks, just in case.

 

He’s naturally a little longer than the average turian, but it’s not something she would notice. He’s also a slightly deeper shade of blue than is considered normal, but she wouldn’t notice that either. “Shepard, what’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. Does she suddenly find him too alien?

 

Her attention snaps back to him, but it takes her a moment longer before she fully processes the question. “What? No! No!” she says. “I just”--she bites her lip--“I forgot how beautiful you are.”

 

He’s frozen, unable to think or move or speak. She’d never said anything like that to him before. Sure she’d sung praise to his cock in bed, but that was the extent of her compliments on his body. Her words insinuated she’d always found him beautiful, but never mentioned it before.

 

His feelings for her swell and he has to swallow them down.

 

“You ready?” he asks, coming back to himself.

 

She just nods.

 

A thought occurs to him and he wonders how far she’ll let him push her tonight. “On your stomach,” he commands. When she doesn’t comply he pulls her to the edge of the desk and slides his cock through her slickness. She moans and he bites back a groan. “If you want it, you’ll do as I say,” he tells her.

 

Eagerly she turns over, planting her feet on the floor. She shakes her ass for him and he gives it a playful smack that makes her giggle.

 

He teases her only once more, rubbing the tip of his cock against her clit before sinking into her. He groans and she moans his name in response, she feels just as good as he remembers, if not better. Gripping her hips he sets a punishing pace, Shepard crying out beneath him on every thrust.

 

Quickly she becomes a begging, needy mess. Pleas for more pour from her mouth along with his name and  _ yes.  _

 

It takes a couple tries, but he slips his hand between them to play with the sensitive bundle of nerves. She dissolves into moans of pleasure, pushing back against him with frenzied movements. 

 

“Garrus,” she manages to say. 

 

He pulls her up, flush against him and with his free hand turns her to face him. He kisses her savagely, not stopping his thrusts. “Come for me,” he says. “Come, Shepard. I want to see the look on your face.”

 

Her eyes lock on his as her orgasm rips through her, writhing against him as she screams his name. He can feel her biotic energy coming off her in waves, crashing into him until it’s too much to handle and he follows her into the abyss.

 

Garrus comes down first, sliding out of her and instantly missing her heat. He goes in search of his undersuit.

 

“Garrus,” she calls to him. “Help me into bed.”

 

He abandons his search and scoops her into his arms before wading his way through the armor mine field. With one hand he pulls back the sheets, sets her in bed, and pulls the covers up over her.

 

As he moves to leave she calls for him again. “You can stay here,” is all she says before drifting into sleep.

 

He wars with himself for only a moment before climbing into bed with her. 

 

Shepard scoots closer to him to whisper in his ear, obviously not entirely asleep yet. “I want to do that again tonight,” she says, making him shudder in anticipation.

 

He watches the stars through the skylight until she rouses, begging him for  _ more.  _ Garrus is all too happy to oblige.


	6. Memories That Burn

Shepard is gone for a long time, almost too long. How long does it really take to gather some dog tags? The thought of just being here almost had her in tears, why would she linger?

 

He doesn’t know--doesn’t really care right now--but he can’t be alone in the battery waiting for her. Instead he crosses the mess to the elevator and takes it to her quarters. He hacks the door--it’s not that hard--and steps into her cabin.

 

At first it’s a struggle of where to go, what to do, but then he’s looking through her things and--

 

_ This is wrong _ , he thinks, but continues anyway.

 

His eyes fall on the down turned photo frame, he’s pretty sure he knows what it is, but he checks anyway.

 

Liara stares back at him and he feels a surge of guilt. Here he is, sleeping with Shepard and betraying the trust of someone he once called a friend. Hastily he puts the frame back where he found it--he can’t look at it anymore.

 

Almost lazily he makes his way to her bed, his attention dragging across every object in the room as he goes. He takes a seat at the end of it and waits.

 

It’s not much longer until the door opens, Shepard wandering in in a daze. She’s still in her armor and she looks like crap as she settles her helmet onto the desk. She does a double take in his direction.

 

“Garrus?” she questions, staring at him blankly.

 

When he doesn’t answer she starts to shed her armor, letting it crash to the floor. “I’m going to shower,” she says, shedding her undersuit as well.

 

He nods and she disappears into the bathroom.

 

He thinks he’ll just wait for her, but he can hear something strange coming from the bathroom and he can’t help but go check on her.

 

“Shepard?” he says.

 

As soon as the door opens she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He knows what the sound is now--crying. She sobs against his armor and he thinks it can’t possibly be comfortable.

 

In an attempt to be comforting he strokes her wet hair. “Shh, it’s okay, Shepard. You’re okay. Everything’s alright. You don’t need to cry. I’m here,” he says. The last part comes out wrong, but when she pulls away she’s smiling through her tears.

 

“You are,” is all she says before pressing her face against him once more.

 

They stay like that for a while before Garrus decides he needs to take her to bed. He reaches around her and switches off the water.

 

She looks up at him with wide eyes and she bites her lip. “Garrus, will you do something for me?”

 

“Anything, Shepard,” he promises.

 

She smiles at him and backs up slightly. “Will you--” she begins, but doesn’t finish, biting her lip and looking away from him.

 

In one fluid motion she turns back to him, pressing her mouth to his and slipping her hand behind his head to knead the sensitive flesh beneath his fringe. He moans against her mouth and she takes the opportunity use her free hand to help him out of his armor.

 

Together they remove his armor and his undersuit quickly follows. She draws him back until she rests against the shower wall. Her hands fumble with the controls until water rains down on them.

 

“Garrus,” she whispers, her bright green eyes staring at him. She holds his face in her hands and pulls him down for a kiss. 

 

When they break apart the look in her eyes is soft and helpless, like she's lost and only he can help her. He recognizes that quick and dirty is not what she needs right now. So when he cups her face in his hand and she leans into the touch, placing her hand over his, he's not surprised.

 

“Are you sure?” he breathes, running his thumb across her cheek. 

 

She nods slowly, “Please.”

 

He lifts her up and wraps her legs around his waist. She has to tease him a bit--sad sex isn't something he finds particularly arousing for obvious reasons.

 

When he's ready he checks with her one more time, a question he asks with only his eyes. She nods in answer and he pushes into her. She whimpers, gripping the back of his neck and turning her face to the ceiling.

 

He lets out a ragged breath as he works himself in and out of her slowly. With his head buried in her neck he licks a line to her jaw and back.

 

His pace would be torturous in any other instance, but right now it's exactly what she needs. He's happy, despite himself. He shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he is--she's upset and he's comforting her in the only way he knows how, but it shouldn't feel so... _ right. _

 

Then a thought comes to mind and as soon as it does he tries to drown it, but he can't. They're working the same slow--almost loving pace and the thought is so strong. She's whispering his name in his ear, kneading the sensitive flesh beneath his fringe and he can't help it. 

 

_ He loves her. He loves her so incredibly much and in this moment they're not just having sex anymore. It's something more than that. Something heart and soul deep. They're making  _ love.

 

“Please,” he begs. “Please tell me you're as close as I am.”

 

She nods and brings his forehead to hers. He knows she doesn't know what it means, knows he shouldn't pretend she does, but he can't stop himself.  _ He loves her. _

 

It takes all he has not to say it out loud.

 

He takes a hand off her hips and tangles it in her own. With the other he reaches to draw small circles over her clit.

 

They come together, she screams his name and arches into him. He tightens his hold on her hip and squeezes her hand as he drives into her one last time.

 

They come back from orgasmic bliss slowly, lazily. She kisses mandible and his eyes flutter open. 

 

“Hey you,” he says with a half laugh.

 

“Hey,” she echoes back.

 

“You okay?” he asks, holding her face in his hand.

 

She nods and presses her hand to his, “I am now.”

 

His heart clenches and he has to remind himself of the photo on her desk, the one facing down. _Liara. She has Liara._ _She doesn't want me like that. I'm temporary. She's permanent._


	7. Stolen Moment

Garrus doesn’t mind Kasumi Goto, she can handle herself and she’s pretty funny. What he does mind, however, is Shepard doing anything without him there to back her up. He knows she doesn’t  _ really  _ need him, she can take care of herself, but that doesn’t stop the growing anxiety he feels over this mission.

 

As he stands in front of her door he takes a moment to reconsider--maybe this isn’t the best idea afterall. Then the door opens and he has no hope of escaping.

 

“Garrus!” she shrieks, hand over her heart. “I--did you need something?”

 

“I wanted to give you something,” he says, fully aware she can't tell he's smirking at her.

 

She sighs and he's suddenly very aware of the black dress she wears. 

 

_ That's convenient, _ he thinks.

 

“Alright, but can you do it in the elevator? I'm in sort of a hurry,” she says, sliding past him.

 

He nods and follows her. He waits for the elevator to start moving before he presses the command on his omni-tool. The elevator lurches and Shepard turns to him.

 

“What was that?”

 

He doesn't respond, instead he stalks over and corners her. “Do you know how long I've waited for this, Shepard?” he says. He doesn't wait for an answer, “ _ Years. _ ”

 

She swallows hard and he thinks he sounds a little different than usual, his voice slightly ragged with lust.

 

“G--Garrus,” she tries, her voice no more than a squeak.

 

He shakes his head as he sinks to his knees. “No, not this time, Shepard. I'm going to taste you and you're not going to stop me,” he says, sliding her dress up her thighs. 

 

It's a lie. If she really wants him to stop he'll do so in a heartbeat, but from the look in her eyes she's not going to call his bluff.

 

He pulls off her underwear and tosses them aside. He can  _ smell _ her arousal and it's intoxicating. 

 

With one fluid motion he pulls her off her feet and rests her thighs on his shoulders. She squeals at the sudden motion, but still makes no move to stop him.

 

This close her scent is going to make him delirious. She's already  _ so  _ wet. When did he start having this effect on her?

 

He licks a slow line along her, eliciting a half whimper, half moan from her. He swirls around her clit and she writhes, covering her mouth with her hand to suppress her moans.

 

“None of that,” he says against her, reaching up to pull her hand away. She whines and he laughs, which only makes her moan.

 

He swirls his tongue again and again before stopping, resting his head against her thigh. She whimpers at the sudden loss. He decides to test her.

 

“What do you want, Shepard?”

 

She whines, “ _ More. _ ”

 

“More what?” he questions, nipping her thigh. “You need to be specific.”

 

She swallows hard and it's quiet for a moment. “I want you to bury your face in my cunt. I want you to fuck me with your delicious turian mouth.  _ Please, Garrus, I need you _ ,” she says, flushing a lovely shade of pink.

 

It's more than he expected, but he's happy to oblige. Returning between her thighs he repeats his earlier motions.

 

When he looks up she's watching him with lust burning in her eyes. “Garrus,” she moans and writhes in his arms.

 

He watches her face contort in pleasure as he traces her entrance before delving into her. She gasps sharply at the intrusion, his name on her lips. 

 

She tastes so good he never wants to stop, but the violet glow spreading across her skin tells him it'll be over all too soon. He redoubles his efforts, pressing further until he can hit  _ that  _ spot that has her wailing and begging. 

 

Her hand at the base of his fringe clenches, scraping the sensitive flesh and making him groan. 

 

Being careful not to drop her in the process, he reaches up to trace idle patterns over her nub with his thumb.

 

That's all it takes and she's screaming, writhing in his arms and chanting his name. He doesn't stop, though, just works her through it with slower motions until she's trying to pull away.

 

He sets her back down on shaking legs, she reaches out for him to steady herself and he can't help a laugh.

 

She glares at him, “Wicked, wicked man.”

 

He shrugs and sets the elevator back in motion.

 

When he notices her looking around frantically he smirks. “Looking for these?” he asks, holding her underwear up to her.

 

She grabs for them but he's taller and has longer arms. She growls, but it's not very menacing. “What, are you going to keep them?”

 

“Only until you get back,” he promises, ducking down to kiss her.

 

She sighs, “I hope you know I'll have my payback.”

 

“Oh I'm counting on it Shepard,” he says.

 

The doors open to the cargo bay and Shepard manages to walk out without shaking  _ too  _ much. He waves goodbye and she glares at him again before blowing him a kiss.

 

_ Love you, too, Shepard,  _ he thinks, though he knows better.

 

When the doors close again he leans back against the wall. “Aren't you supposed to be meeting her in cargo bay?” he questions seemingly no one.

 

No one responds and he speaks again, “Did you at least enjoy the show?”

 

There's a trademark shimmer of a tactical cloak in the opposite corner that reveals Kasumi Goto. “How long have you known I was here?” she asks, a little annoyed.

 

“Long enough,” he says with a shrug. 

 

She watches him from under her hood, only the faintest smile visible on her lips. “Then why did you continue?”

 

“ _ Years _ ,” is all he says.

 

Kasumi nods almost like she understands. “I'll see you later, Garrus,” she says, opening the elevator doors again.

 

Garrus reaches out and grabs her by the arm. “This stays between us,” he tells her.

 

She nods, “Of course.” 

 

When he releases her she doesn't leave immediately. She turns to look at him, “You shouldn't keep your feelings all bottled up, you know. It's not good for you.” Then her tactical cloak is back in place and she's gone, leaving Garrus alone in the elevator to contemplate her words.


	8. With Friends Like These

Garrus always liked Ashley, she was good in a fight and loyal to a fault. Not that she really seemed to think the same of him. Especially now.

 

Horizon was a shit show and Ashley’s little...whatever that was had set Shepard down a dark path into herself. Garrus wasn't sure he'd be able to bring her back. Especially considering she wouldn't even see him.

 

So here he lay in his little makeshift bedroom in the storage space of the battery, trying to calm his nerves the best way he knows how.

 

He’s already shed his armor and undersuit, left them by the door. He sets the lock on his omni-tool and relaxes into his cot, closing his eyes to better imagine Shepard.

 

She’s as beautiful as she always is, her red hair sweeping just past her shoulders and her bright green eyes set on him. She doesn’t break his gaze as she slides down his body, leaving kisses and bites along the way. She runs a finger over his slit, pressing enough to slip a finger inside. 

 

He knows she’s never touched him like this, but that’s his fault and not hers. He should’ve just asked. He still could ask.

 

The fantasy reforms in his mind and she’s dragging her dull little nails across his chest, making him arch slightly. Another finger joins the first and she runs them along his length, eliciting a long groan. She smirks and sets her mouth on him, licking idle patterns over his parting plates, her eyes never leaving his.

 

She calls his name and he says hers back.

 

Then he hears a chuckle and realizes it’s not in his head. He opens his eyes to find Shepard in the doorway, smiling at him.

 

“Hey you,” she says, eyes between his legs.

 

He forces a laugh and it comes out a little breathless. “Hey,” he says back.

 

“Thinking about me?” she questions, not moving from her spot in the doorway.

 

Now his laugh is genuine. “Isn’t it obvious?”

 

She shrugs, “Yeah. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

 

“Of course you did.”

 

She smirks at him and finds her way to his cot. “So is this what you do with your spare time?” she asks, sitting beside him with her eyes roving over him.

 

“No,” he says. “ _ You’re  _ what I do with my spare time.”

 

She glares at him and smacks him on the chest, but her laughter betrays her and he knows she’s not seriously upset. She bites her lip.

 

“What’s going on in the beautiful head of yours, Shepard?” he asks, sitting up as his cock retreats back behind his plates. He taps her temple gently and she smiles softly at him.

 

“I want to try something, but I need to know you’re okay with it,” she says, not looking at him.   
  


“Whatever you want,” he tells her and he means it. She could ask anything of him and he’d be all too happy to do exactly as she says.

 

She shakes her head at him, “It’s about what you want. What do you want?”

 

_ Whatever you want. To make you happy. You to love me. To be buried in your wet heat. _

 

“Depends on what you’re offering,” he says instead.

 

In answer she raises her hand, the tips of her fingers glowing violet. She runs a line across his chest and he has to fight for the strength to keep himself up.

 

It doesn’t burn, not like before, when she loses control of herself and her biotics. This is different, his nerves feel alive and they tingle in pleasure, blurring his thoughts and vision.

 

He leans on her for support. “What was that?” he manages to say through the haze of his mind.

 

“Did you like it?” she asks, grinning. “I’ve been practicing. On myself. I wanted to make sure I could get it perfect before showing you.”

 

“Oh, Shepard,” he says, resting his head on her shoulder. While his love for her swells so does his arousal. His mind is calling out for  _ more, more, more.  _ He briefly wonders if he can become addicted to this sort of thing.

 

“Lay down,” she says and he does. She draws a line down the center of his chest, all the way down to the seam of his plates. She echoes his previous motions, sliding a finger inside before sending another to join the first.

 

He’s writhing under her touch, clawing at the cot. Then she runs her fingers along him-- _ inside him _ \--and he almost can’t take it. “Shepard,” he says, his voice ragged. His plates part and his erection is freed.

 

She takes him in hand and it only gets worse from there. He keens and she laughs, lowering her head to rest over his cock. He begs her incoherently, words not coming out right, but she seems to understand. In seconds her mouth is on him and he feels like he’s about to lose his mind.

 

His thoughts are jumbled and he’s not entirely sure what’s happening anymore. Then it hits him, his orgasm rips through him and he can’t help the roar he lets free.

 

He thinks he must’ve blacked out for a minute. When he opens his eyes, she’s staring at him and he feels suddenly self conscious. “What?” he manages to say through his heaving breaths.

 

She just stares at him for a moment longer. “That was incredible,” is all she says, still staring.

 

He huffs a laugh, “Thanks.”

 

Suddenly she’s shedding her clothes, that stupid outfit that reminds him of Chakwas, of almost dying. It’s somewhat fitting, he thinks. His love for her  _ is _ slowly killing him.

 

Then she’s naked beside him. He can’t really see what she’s doing from this angle so he asks. “Shepard, what’re you doing?”

 

She smiles and kisses his mandible. “My turn,” she says simply.

 

He readjusts to see better, fighting the boneless feeling in his limbs. She doesn’t bother with much teasing, she’s already wet enough he can see it from where he lays. Did he really turn her on that much?

 

Her biotics flare and she makes slow circles around her clit, her hips rising as she moans. He watches with rapt attention as she slips two fingers into herself, both flared violet. She cries out, arching off the cot. Her other hand joins in to rub her previously abandoned nub as she thrusts with the other.

 

She’s wailing and moaning, his name slipping past her lips every so often. Then she’s begging no one in particular, broken pleas of  _ more _ .

 

When she comes it’s almost violent, her biotics sending a shockwave across the room, knocking over some crates. She’s screaming and he knows what it feels like inside her right now, the flutter of her inner muscles. Then she collapses onto the cot, sated and panting.

 

“Have fun?” he asks, smirking. He briefly thinks he should teach her turian facial expressions, but decides it’s better if she doesn’t know.

 

She nods and releases a strangled breath. He pulls her to him and she curls around him, finding just the right spot to not be uncomfortable.

 

“Garrus?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You know you’re my best friend, right?”

 

“You might’ve mentioned that once or twice.”

 

“Am I your best friend, Garrus?”

 

He forces himself not to laugh, it’s not funny. And yet it sort of is. “Of course you are. Who else would deal with you if not for me?”

 

She laughs quietly into his chest and dozes off.

 

It occurs to him there’s been an increasing amount of physical affection between them, but he doesn’t think too hard on it. He knows the path that could take him down and he doesn’t want to go there.


	9. No Forgiveness

Garrus had ignored Shepard the whole way back to the Normandy. Every call of his name fell on deaf ears as he stormed back toward the battery.

 

Sidonis should be dead. Sidonis should be dead and buried and  _ gone,  _ just like the rest of his team. He had the opportunity to kill him today, to finally,  _ finally  _ get his revenge. And Shepard had ruined it.

 

She had stepped into his scope and stopped him. Just as she had stopped him from killing Saleon. Except this time it wasn’t just the one bad guy who got away. No,  _ this time  _ it was personal.  _ This time  _ it was more than he thought he could forgive. At least right away.

 

Alone, sulking in the battery, Garrus tries to return to his calibrations, but his feelings nag at him, tugging on sensitive strings. 

 

He abandons his calibrations in favor of stalking about the room, though it only succeeds in agitating him further. Finally he gives up and storms out of the battery, through the mess and to the elevator. The slow ascent is nothing compared to the first Normandy, but he still finds himself growing more annoyed by the second.

 

The elevator doors open and he makes his way to the door to her quarters. He sets about hacking the lock and the door whooshes open.

 

He steps inside with the intention of getting in her face and making her explain herself, but it all falls away at the sight of her.

 

She's laying on the bed, knees bent and legs spread with her hand thrusting something in and out of her. Her eyes catch on him momentarily and she smirks before throwing her head back, moaning wantonly. When he makes no move she presses down on the object and it buzzes alive, making her cry out and arch off the bed.

 

She continues like that for several minutes before she turns her attention to him. “Are you just going to stand there, Vakarian?” she questions, staring at him from her place on the bed.

 

He seems to awaken from his daze. Stalking over to her, he grips her chin and guides her into a seated position. “I'm content to watch,” he says, his tone calmer than he expects of himself. He's ready for her, his armor incredibly uncomfortable. He releases her and takes a seat on the couch.

 

Shepard just watches him for a moment, biting her lip.

 

“Touch yourself, Shepard.  _ Now _ ,” he commands.

 

She's all too happy to oblige, laying back down and pulling the toy all the way out for him to see before plunging it back inside herself. It's shaped like a turian cock, a shade of blue that almost exactly matches his clan markings. He thinks to ask her about it, but he's distracted by the way she writhes under her own ministrations.

 

Her movements are erratic, she grinds upward on nothing while fucking herself. She begs him for nothing in particular and he knows it's mostly for show, but he doesn't mind.

 

As she brings herself to her climax he works himself out of his armor, setting the pieces on the couch beside him. He doesn't take his eyes off her, can't look away from her shaky, frantic motions.

 

“Come, Shepard,” he says, his voice wavering slightly with barely contained lust.

 

She arches off the bed, one hand tangled in the bed sheets and the other still working the toy. She calls his name as her orgasm hits her, crying out when the vibrations become too much.

 

He stands and crosses the distance between them, removing the toy and replacing it with his tongue. She keens and tries to crawl away, but he holds her tight against him. 

 

“Garrus, please,” she begs breathlessly, squirming in his grip.

 

He doesn't let up until her pleas turn to begging for  _ more, more. _ Then she's coming again, grinding up on his face as she rides out her release. This time when she moves to escape he lets her.

 

“You're not forgiven yet, Shepard,” he says as he sheds his undersuit.

 

She eyes him from her place on the bed, sitting up and crawling over to him on shaky limbs. She takes him in hand and gives him a tentative stroke.

 

He lets out a long groan and tries to reign himself in. “No,” he says, tone neither intimidating nor commanding. 

 

She tests her luck and licks a slow line up his length.

 

His body betrays him as he bucks in her hand.

 

“Let me take care of you,” she says, mouth poised to take him in her mouth. She waits for his slow nod before swallowing down all of him. Her hand  grabs his and guides it to the back of her head, where he tangles his talons in her hair.

 

He pulls her off him slightly before sinking back in with a low groan. He repeats the motion before picking up the pace, testing how far she'll let him take it. Her teeth graze him slightly and he hisses. He stares down at her and finds her watching him. 

 

“You enjoy this don't you?” he asks, huffing a laugh.

 

She hums around him in response, making him jerk. 

 

After a couple more thrusts he pulls her off him completely. She whines and he lets out a ragged laugh. 

 

“On your knees,” he tells her and she turns around, raising her ass and shaking it for him.

 

He positions himself, teasing her entrance with his cock before thrusting into her. Her already shaky arms give out, causing her to collapse onto the mattress. 

 

“Don't stop,” she begs under him.

 

He chuckles breathlessly, “Don't worry, I had no such intentions.” Then he's fucking her in earnest, setting a pace she can't hope to match. 

 

His name comes off her lips with gasps and moans.  _ She's close. _

 

He pulls out and her eyes snap to him, boring into him almost hatefully.

 

“Scoot up,” he pants.  _ He's close. _

 

She shifts onto her back and slides up the bed, giving him enough room to settle onto his knees. He pulls her to him, putting her legs over his shoulders as he sinks back into her with a low growl.

 

“Shepard,” he groans, returning to his previous punishing pace.

 

Her breasts bounce with each thrust and she palms one while her other hand ventures to her clit. She clenches around him, dragging his orgasm from him as she rides out hers.

 

He slips out of her and collapses beside her on the bed. She curls around him with a smug smile on her face. “Am I forgiven?” 

 

Garrus just stares at her for a moment. He loves this woman, loves her with everything he has. His anger melts away from him, leaving only the burning feeling of love in his chest.

 

Mistaking his silence as denial she climbs over him, straddling his chest and pressing her forehead to his. “Am I forgiven?” she asks again.

 

He knows she doesn't have any idea that her seemingly innocent touch means so much, but he makes no move to stop her. He tilts his head to press his mouth plates against her lips. “Forgiven,” he tells her.


	10. A Love Worth More

They went to Illium and they met with Liara.

 

The whole time Garrus felt like he might be sick. Then they kissed and he felt his control slipping.

 

“I have to go,” he blurts. “Very important. I'll meet you back on the Normandy.” Before anyone can protest he turns and leaves. 

 

He doesn't go directly back to the Normandy; he stops at the bar and has a couple drinks before finding his way back to the ship.

 

It occurs to him he has some wine back in the battery. He fetches it and heads up to Shepard's quarters where he waits.

 

He doesn't wait that long and when she appears in the doorway he almost loses his nerve. He pushes through it and gets up from her bed, walking over to her. She's in her undersuit and when he imagines himself stripping her bare and bending her over the desk he feels a surge of guilt mixing with the bile in his throat.

 

“We need to talk,” he says.

 

Her expression changes from pleasant to something unreadable. “Talk away,” she says, waving her hand.

 

“We have to end this,” he says, trying his best to keep a calm, collected tone and expression.

 

The look on her face reads surprise and then sadness, but he's sure he's misinterpreting. She belongs with Liara, she has to know that.

 

“What?” she asks, her voice so quiet he almost misses it. 

 

“This is wrong and it has to end. We can't--I can't do this anymore,” he continues. He can feel himself slipping and if he doesn't get out of here soon he's going to lose it.

 

“Wh--why? I thought we were having fun,” she says, and he  _ knows  _ he's reading the tone of her voice wrong. She can't be upset.

 

“We are--were. But that doesn't matter. I can't do this anymore, Shepard. Liara is my friend and--”

 

She cuts him off with a bitter laugh, “That's what this about? Liara? Jesus Garrus are you absolutely blind? For a sniper you sure have poor attention to detail.”

 

He stares at her dumbly. He doesn't understand. 

 

She shakes her head, “You're a complete idiot, Vakarian.” Her lips are quirked in an half smile and she's looking away from him.

 

He growls and drives her backward until she's against the desk. “Would you stop insulting me long enough to explain yourself?” he snarls at her. 

 

She shrinks back, bravado gone. “You really can't tell?” she asks meekly.

 

“Can't tell what?” he snaps. He can't help but feel she's playing some cruel game.

 

She flinches like he's hit her and it makes him hate himself. He doesn't want to hurt her. “Can't tell what, Shepard?” he says again, softer this time.

 

Shepard looks away and tucks an escaped strand of red hair behind her ear. “Back on the first Normandy. I made you leave because I was with Liara and I couldn't have you around messing with that. Then you were gone,” she says, her voice a whisper. “And I've never felt more alone in my whole life. Not on Akuze, not even drifting off in space choking to death. I'd been preparing myself for weeks, going over the exact words I would say and--”

 

“The point, Shepard,” he says a little harsher than he means to. 

 

She sighs, “Seeing you on Omega, as Archangel after all that time--longer for you, I know. Then that rocket…” Her breath hitches and she looks at him finally. “I couldn't lose you again. I meant to say something sooner, I really did, but I had this sick idea you'd say it first. I guess that's not going to happen.” Her eyes are pleading and soft, like she's afraid of what happens next.

 

She laughs darkly and places her hands on either side of his face. “Garrus Vakarian, you big idiot, I love you,” she says.

 

His head spins and the galaxy shifts just enough he feels off balance. His dreams are coming true and she  _ loves  _ him.  _ Loves him  _ of all people. It's not Liara, it's  _ him _ . All this time if he'd spoken up he could've been with her.  _ With  _ her. He can't take it anymore and he kisses her, rough and unforgiving. 

 

She grabs his arm and moans into his mouth. He moves down her neck, pulling on the zipper of her undersuit and--

 

“Garrus. Garrus look at me,” she calls and he turns his attention back to her. “You got something you wanna share?”

 

He presses into her and dips his head down to her ear. “I've been in love with you for years, Shepard. It took your death for me to admit it to myself, so I've got you beat there. I'm in love with you, Shepard. Maddeningly in love with you. So if you don't mind, I'd like to fuck you like you're mine now,” he growls in her ear, making her shiver.

 

“I--I've never heard you say that before, I think I like it,” she stammers.

 

He works the zipper down slowly. “Never heard me say what, Shepard?” he questions the shell of her ear. He knows what she means, but he wants to hear her say it.

 

“That you want to fuck me,” she says sheepishly.

 

He chuckles against her ear. “I always want to fuck you, Shepard. The only difference now is  _ you're mine _ ,” he purrs, gripping her ass possessively. 

 

She whimpers and hastily goes for the pressure seals on his armor, making him laugh a little at her eagerness. It never ceases to amaze him how quickly she can get him out of his armor.

 

When he's bare for her she bites her lip and just stares at him. 

 

“Shepard, talk to me,” he says when she's quiet for too long.

 

“Bed,” she says simply. He scoops her into his arms, cradling her against his chest as he carries her to her bedroom and drops her onto the mattress. She giggles as she bounces.

 

He helps her out of the rest of her undersuit, bra and panties following soon after. His eyes feast on her while his mind screams:  _ mine. _

 

Laying down beside her he picks her up and settles her on his chest. He steals a pillow from her side of the bed to better support his fringe before gesturing her up.

 

“Garrus,” she says hesitantly. 

 

He sighs. “We both know it'll be fine. At worst a mild stomachache tomorrow morning. Now quit worrying and come here,” he says, tugging gently at the back of her thighs.

 

She doesn't move for a minute, still warring with herself. Then she crawls over him, positioning her sex. He has to pull her down onto him, some part of her still worried for his well-being.

 

It all dissolves when he sinks his tongue into her wet heat. She grinds down on him in response, moaning his name. At this angle he can reach more of her and she writhes above him.

 

With his thumb he traces idle patterns over her nub. Pleas for  _ more  _ and chants of  _ yes _ spill from her mouth as she rides his face with abandon. Her release comes quickly and she stills above him, her inner walls clenching around his tongue as she keens.

 

She falls backward onto his chest. He's so hard for her.

 

“You want to keep going?” he asks, nipping her thigh.

 

She nods and he rolls them so she's pinned beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist. Her eyes fall between them and she flushes. “You sure are happy to see me,” she says shyly. 

 

He can't help but huff a laugh, he likes this playful thing they have going. With one fluid motion he sheaths himself in her, making her arch up to meet him as she moans.

 

Her dull little nails claw at his back as he finds a steady pace. She moves her hips in time with his, rolling together in a perfect rhythm. Her eyes flutter closed and he nuzzles her neck. It's a slow ascent to their peaks this time, as if there's nowhere they have to be and nothing they have to do. 

 

“You're beautiful,” he says looking down at her. She's flushed and a little sweaty, her hair sticking to her face. But she looks gorgeous as she arches up toward him, begging for her release.

 

He draws one hand along her side, making her shiver as he settles his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex. He traces the his name in turian and she's  _ close. _

 

_ Spirits, he's close. _

 

He picks up the pace until she could never hope to match him, thrusting hard and fast until she's keening. 

 

Her orgasm comes with a surge of biotics. She cries out, swallowed in the violet glow. It spreads until he's swallowed too and his orgasm follows hers. 

 

They hover over the bed, higher than the last time it happened and burning brighter. He comes around first, they're several feet off the bed, but that's not what awes him. 

 

“Shepard,” he purrs. “Open your eyes.” 

 

Slowly she complies and the look of amazement on her face is somehow more beautiful than the way the skylight reflects them in such a fashion they look like they're made of violet stars. It only lasts a moment longer before they collapse back onto the mattress and Garrus briefly wonders if she can do that intentionally.

 

“That was beautiful,” she says in awe.

 

He nuzzles her neck. “You're beautiful.” 

 

He slides out of her and flops down beside her. The loss of him makes her whimper. 

 

“I love you,” he says.

 

She curls up around him. “I love you too, Garrus,” she says back. “You don't know how long I've wanted this.”

 

“Unfortunately you lose in that department. I've wanted this far longer than you,” he says.

 

She laughs softly, “You win.”

 

He pulls her close, “Already did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt me on tumblr! thelilybird.tumblr.com


End file.
